Page 6 of Mistaken Identity
I veered into Audric’s grandmother’s yard and walked straight toward them.
His dad saw me coming and gave me a grateful smile. “I have to go now, kiddo. Looks like you have a friend to keep you company, though.”
A friend.
That was laugh-out-loud funny.
If he only knew what his son had done…
Audric’s dad placed his hand on my shoulder before he left, and I barely contained a flinch.
Touching of any kind now scared the crap out of me. But touch from men of any age where they had some height to them made my skin crawl.
I’d need to go get in the shower after this and wash off.
I still wouldn’t feel clean—likely I never would—but at least it’d give me the illusion that I was clean.
Audric turned woodenly and saw me standing there, his eyes narrowing. “What are you doing here?”
I chewed on the inside of my lip and kicked the grass underneath my foot before saying, “Just thought you could use some company.”
I knew what it was like having to deal with your own thoughts.
It wasn’t fun, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
So that’s where I stayed, standing by his side with at least six feet of distance between us, not speaking a word.
Audric didn’t say anything, either, but I was there.
That had to count for something, right?
Two
Sometimes you have to hug the people you don’t like so you know how big of a hole you need to dig in the backyard.
—Audric’s secret thoughts
AUDRIC
Six Years Later
“What do you mean?” I was well and truly shocked at the words that had just slipped from her lips.
“I just need to marry for convenience,” Laney said. “And you’re the perfect person to piss my dad off, that I know won’t fall in love with me while we’re married for a year.”
She wasn’t lying.
When my mom decided to kill herself and fucked it up, I’d turned into a completely different person.
That full ride for football that I’d been aiming toward was gone, mostly because I’d realized that life was bigger than football.
I needed to be home.
I couldn’t leave and make a name for myself because my dad needed me here.
Hell, the four years I’d spent in the Army had felt like torture. I’d watched as the life had slowly slipped out of my dad’s eyes in those four years.
No more.
